Colan III

Colan had never been separated from his father for this long. Two nights alone, in a city he barely knew, using a language he barely understood, had been difficult. That was ignoring that he was also being hunted by the guards…though they didn't seem to be trying too hard to find him.

'You'd at least think they'd notice if the boy they are looking for is near one of the most important buildings in the whole city,' he thought as he crept along the wall of the GreatPit. The massive circular building towered over him, and mixing with the shadows produced by the rising son, obscured him in the dark cloak that Emiya had thrown him in during his escape from the Pyramid.

The cloak, even more than the skills he had learned from his father during their travels, had been key in getting through the past two days. Somehow, it had proven both soft enough to soften the blow of his landing, and yet tough and plain enough to allow him to hide beneath it in an alleyway he had found after bolting from the cart. It had been far enough away that only a few soldiers had even checked that side street, and all of them had passed the small sack like garbage laying against a broken down crate. After staying there a while, the guards seemed to have retreated back to the Pyramid itself, and Colan guessed they had more or less called off the search for him, as when he went by a set of guards while approaching the arena, neither of them even looked at him. True, Emiya's now brown cloak covered his hair, but he would have thought they would have been looking for a boy his age and height.

'Best to take whatever gifts the gods give me,' he considered, as he slid along the marble exterior. The guards were not out in force, he'd only seen four at the main entrance, and none completing a patrol, 'I suppose with how many soldiers are being prepared for the invasions, they might be low on the amount of guards,' he'd certainly seen more and more of the legionnaires marching towards the main docks, 'I hope they haven't taken our ship. We will need that to get out of here once I free Da and Lady Xuan.'

His shoulders shook. He remembered seeing the lighting shoot up from the ground and enter his father and the kind woman he'd been traveling with. The few hours of sleep he'd managed had been cursed by the sounds of their screams. It was likely another gift that Emiya had actually not been taken by that spell. He would have lost his head.

After a few moments of this sneaking, constantly searching the pit to see if there was any secondary entrance, he found something. It was an iron gate that blocked a mid sized opening into the arena. It was only big enough for a cart pulled by two horses to enter, unlike the eight horses wide main entrances on the north and south ends. This one was only a few meters away from the long covered road leading up to the pyramid, rather than in the open like the two main gates. And since it was so close to that corridor, he might be able to use it to try and get into that corridor, and sneak up inside the pyramid, and go past the guards to get to his comrades.

'Of course,' he thought placing his hands around the bars of the gate, 'There will probably be guards inside,' and his back hitched at the thought of being stabbed by one of the legionnaires, 'But…the invasion starts tomorrow. I only have so long to try and find Da and the others before I lose my chance to save them.'

Looking at the metal gate, he saw that the opening between the bars was too thing for him to squeeze through, probably only the distance between the tip of his finger and the middle of his palm. Even if he could try, it might take so long that he could be spotted. He let out a small curse, trying to think of a way past, when from inside the opening, he heard what sounds like a door opening. Quickly, he threw himself up against the side of the pit, not against the gate or the opening that lead to it, and covered himself in the cloak again, hoping that if they came out they would just consider him trash like the last set of guards had.

"-shoveling dung!" he heard from inside the opening, as he made sure to look towards the ground in case anyone looked at him, "We're members of the Harpy's Shield. Yet we're treated like the slaves themselves."

"You know why?" another voice said, "I heard it was because the Pit Administrator didn't want any slaves to steal any weapons," this voice was calmer, but probably just from the pure weariness, "With all the legions about to head out, they're worried about the weapons for the games getting out into the slave quarters, and when everyone's gone, them starting a revolt."

"So why not just have us guard the slaves while they're shoveling animal shit?" the first voice asked again, "We are the Tyrant's personal guards, yet you and I just spent the whole night knee deep in crocodile dung."

"Probably to keep as few people coming in and out of the Greatpit as possible," Colan heard what sounded like a lock being unlatched, and the creaky sound of a metal gate opening. He saw the metal bars out of the corner of his vision, and did his best to further curl up, like the sleeping vagrant he hope they thought he was, "And it's not like Grazdan the Great needs us to be his guard," he heard a grunt of affirmation at that, and could hear the wounded pride in both of them, "Come on, the fire-belly will be here soon, and with how much Grazdan's paying for these things, we need to get the spice in so the cooks can get it ready for the pit fighters."

'Is someone coming?,' Colan took only a second to look around. If there was some kind of delivery coming…then they would probably have to open the gate for a while. That might give him the chance to get in, and try and get back into the pyramid. With these two guards just standing there, it was probably best to wait for a bit.

It was a bit longer than just a moment, in fact, the sun, which hadn't even begun to rise, was peaking above the buildings when Colan heard the distinct sounds of hooves on the pavement. Within a few moments, down one of the side streets, he saw a one mule cart coming up towards the Greatpit. It was being ridden by another legionnaire, who waved at his comrades as he approached the opening. Colan did his best to squeeze against the side of the wall, hoping that no one would notice him, like he had done to escape the search.

"Morning," the third guard on the cart said, pulling back on the mule to hold it in place, "I'm not late, am I, the apothecary was asleep when-"

"It happens," the second guard from earlier said, cutting the one on the cart off, though Colan could hear some exasperation in his voice, "Let's just get this in here. The cooks should have more than enough time to season the fighters' food."

"I just wish we were going to get a chance to see the fights," the first said. The two from inside the arena had come out, and were standing around the front of the cart, "Did you hear the guy who wiped out that Terus's unit is going to be put out there?"

'Emiya?'

"Not me," the one on the cart said, "I don't like this firebelly. I have seen what it does to men, and I want to be gone from it as soon as possible."

"It only gets you when you eat it," the first one said, and Colan could hear the distinct sound of the metal gate being opened wide, "And even then, it only makes you lose your mind for a little while. Grazdan said it's the best way to get pit fighters to fight longer and harder."

"That may be," the one on the cart cracked his whip, and he could hear the cart lurch forward, and begin to move inside, "I still don't trust it. Mystic spices from the South worry me."

"I understand," the voice of the second guard began to move inside as well. Suddenly, Colan could hear the sound of the joint of the gate twisting, and then-

CLANG

The gate had closed shut. Colan felt himself sweat. He'd thought he'd have had more time to sneak onto the cart. But they just went ahead inside without checking it or conversing. He twisted himself around, and was soon at the gate again. He looked in, and saw the cart almost halfway through the long arch, almost to what looked like the center of the arena. The two other guards were walking alongside it, still chattering with the man on it. Finally, they came to a stop near the other end, and as the did so, the one on the cart got off, and walked to the back, near Colan. The back end of the cart then came undone, and Colan could see the three begin to pick out large bags of what he guessed was the firebelly.

'Okay,' Colan considered, 'The one on the cart said he's leaving,' he gripped on one of the gate's bars, 'So when he comes back, they'll probably unlock this thing and I'll have to jump for it then,' he looked down, and saw several small outlets on the side of the corridor, some that weren't even ten meters, 'Once they do, I'll go into one of those, and hide until they go away,' he began to steel himself, 'You only have one chance,' he told himself, gripping further on the bar, 'to get past this gate.'

He pulled on reflex, and the gate opened slightly.

Colan blinked.

'They didn't lock it when they went in,' which sort of made sense, if the cart was coming right out. Colan peered down the archway, and saw that the three were coming back out for a second load. He waited a moment, holding the gate barely open, so they wouldn't notice, and then, when the three turned and began to march towards the doorway on their end, he pulled a bit more, and twisted himself to get inside the tunnel.

He then caught the gate as it began to close, and gently allowed it back into place. He looked back, saw that the three were gone, likely inside whatever room they were taking the fire belly, and sprinted towards the nearest door. Knowing this was perhaps his best chance, he grabbed at the handle, and tossed it open. In the door was a dark room, but there were no guards, so he quickly shut it behind him. What little light was in there came from what looked like a few grates to an upper uncovered level. It gave him just enough light to see that there were some crates lying at the side of the room. Colan dove forward, behind the nearest crate, and hid himself, again like he had done previously.

And there Colan would wait. He heard the guards and the cart going back, and the gate open and close once again. Finally, Colan heard the guards, the first two alone again, pass by one last time, and then the sound of another door close.

And then, as light began to fill the room through more grates as the sun grew higher in the sky, Colan sighed.

He'd made it in.

The next few hours went by quickly. Colan had slowly but surely snuck through the rooms and corridors, always making sure to stay as far back as possible to make sure the guards that were around didn't realize who he was. It was a long process, and more than once he'd been forced to dive back into the same room two or three times as legionnaires patrolled by where he'd been moving. One time, a guard had only come a few inches from actually touching him, but because he was under the cloak to make him a burlap sack, they'd ignored him and grabbed a jar of oil from the shelf he'd been hiding beneath.

The entire process had made Colan's heart race. However, during all of it, he'd heard conversation between the guards, and it had confirmed what he'd been expecting.

"Yeah, the first event is going to be two prisoners against some of the whelps," one of the guards was stacking a wheelbarrow with short knives and small round hand shields, "The ones who manage to kill those two will be given two ranks and a five years salary."

"So those must be the ones that killed that conteber in the Pyramid?"

"I think so," the cart was pushed away from the small set of shelves that Colan was hiding behind, "I also hear they're going to lock the two of them together. Make sure they can't get away."

"Lord Grazdan wants them dead then," the other one said, their voices getting more distant as they walked further and further away.

Colan kneaded his forehead with his fingers. He guessed that it was Da and Emiya being set out to be killed in the arena, so he likely didn't have long to try and help them before they were killed by the pit fighters. With chains around them and no weapons…well, he didn't know, maybe they'd be able to make weapons with Emiya's magic, but still, locked up they would likely be unable to fight fully.

'Unless Da tries to disconnect his shoulders again,' Colan shuddered as he remembered the sound of his father's arms falling out and then being shoved back into his sockets, 'And with so much on the line, the fighters likely will not give him time to get back in the fighting form.'

He thought for a moment about trying to find and let his Da and Emiya out before they arrived in the arena, but with the amount of guards around unimportant parts of the arena he'd been in, mostly storage areas, he guessed that he'd be dead before he could get to them. Colan laid against the shelf, and thought for a moment about how he could help, before his mind went back to the guards at the gate earlier.

'Firebelly,' he thought, 'Sounded like some kind of seasoning,' he then thought for a moment, 'The pit fighters are likely to be given a large meal. If I can get in there, and poison the meal…maybe I kill the fighters before…what would I even use…Oh why am I even bothering. We're all as good as dead anyway.'

Colan growled, and slammed his hand into the shelf. Suddenly he heard a small metallic clang next to him. The shelf he'd been hiding on had been full of long knives, and one had fallen next to him. He grabbed at it, and held it firmly in his grip. He studied it for a moment, before pulling it beneath his cloak. His Da had always told him to be cautious…before he'd become this "Heroic Spirit". Now, his father was performing feats of skill and strength he never could have imagined his his wildest dreams, and was acting more wild. He still somewhat feared this new form of his father…but…this new Da was a "Heroic Spirit".

'Da would spit at this problem,' he thought slowly moving to his feet, and sliding up to the nearby door, 'So, I will to,' he twisted his head about, and slipped through the nearby door, 'If I'm going to go to this Chaldea, I have to show I can be of use.'

He was back along the arch he had come through, the metal gate to his left. He looked down towards the center, and saw figures walking around in the arena. He saw what looked like five or six slaves walking about, using long rakes to spread what looked like sand all across the arena. In the center was a more finely dressed man, tall and thin, monitoring their work like a hawk. Colan moved quickly, but along the side of the corridor, until he was able to get to the room he remembered the firebelly being loaded when he had originally snuck into this place. He opened the door, and as he thought, it was another store room, but he could see a door on the other side, and the sounds of bubbling and searing were coming through.

'The kitchen,' Colan had guessed that this was where they were preparing the food with enough firebelly to enrage the pit fighters to be particularly vicious, 'If I can just get in with some kind of pois-'

"And prepare the pit cranes for the lift," he heard from the door he had just entered. Colan dove into the many bags and barrels of supplies and covered himself again. Just as he was settled, the door opened, and he heard a man with a long gate walk past. He steadied his knife for a moment, but felt some of the stress fall from his shoulders as the man passed, and then opened the door on the other side. Suddenly, the noise became overwhelming, and Colan almost had to cover his ears. There were dozens of voices, huge clangs of metal hitting metal, loud bellows increasing the heat, and even the cries of dying animals. And above this cacophany, soon a shrill voice began to emerge.

"STOP!" the man shouted, and slowly but surely, the sound began to die down. Finally, once Colan began be able to make out individual voices, he continued, "The games are to begin in an hour. Is everything on time?"

"Yes Master," one of the slave said quickly, an obvious fear in his voice even if Colan couldn't see him from the angle he was hiding in, "As requested, Firebelly food has been distributed to all the pit fighters below us. The heat should be spreading through them as we speak."

"Excellent," Colan swore to himself. His plan to somehow poison the fighters before they could attack Da and Emiya was already gone. He continued to listen, "So this is all food for the guests?"

"Yes," he heard a grimace in the slave's voice, "Master, this food…it seems strange," he heard a large murmur, and guessed the other slaves were agreeing, "The talons, the bone wings…why are we shaving it into the food itself?"

"I do not know, nor do I care," the tall man continued, his voice a high as a reed, "Great Grazdan demanded that we serve it to our guests from our sister cities, and so we shall make it. I wouldn't be surprised if it is some long lost delicacy from the days of old Ghis," there was almost a laugh in his voice, "A fine delicacy recovered for the masters good, wise and great. I will not hear any more insults to our founder."

"...Yes master."

"Have it delivered up to the stands by the end of the hour," Colan heard the door being shut, "I have to get to the cells. I need to unlock some of the chains for some of the later performances, and I will need time to make sure they can stretch before the event itself. If you need my assistance for any of this, please send a cook down for me."

He then shut the door. As the thin man passed, Colan could hear the wall of sound begin to push forward from the kitchens, even with the door closed. Colan took a second to think, and on instinct he gripped the knife he'd stolen from that shelf. He waited until the man passed him, with the master's back showing to him, Colan jumped out from behind the crate. And as he thought, the sound coming from the kitchen drowned the sound of his feet moving, and remembering the advice from Da, he thrust the knife right into the middle of the man's back.

"AAAAH!" he heard the man scream, and fall forward. A part of Colan was ecstatic, having remembered the story of how Da had managed to cut a Dothraki Berserker down by severing the man from his legs with a strike to the lower spine.

Another part just stopped and stared at the writhing body now laying on the ground, the blade that had just left Colan's hand sticking out into the sky. Colan almost felt like vomiting again, though he kept it down. For all he had seen his father kill men…this was the first time he'd ever stuck a blade into another man.

'It…doesn't feel like I thought it would,' He just continued to stare at the wriggling Master, who was trying to crawl forward, and still screaming. Finally, Colan's eyes widened, and he realized that even with the sounds from the kitchen keeping anyone from there hearing this, there was a chance someone else might hear the screams and come check. He grabbed the knife, and pulled it out from the spine, which only caused the screams to rise in volume. He finally got it loose, and then climbed over the body, and stabbing down once again, this time into the back of the man's neck. The flailing got worse for but a second, and then stopped, as the man's screams died slowly. Colan pulled the knife out once more, and then pulled himself to around the man's head, and thrust the knife forward past the shoulder blade into the man's chest.

This final strike stripped the last movement from the man, and Colan fell backward, looking at the body for but a moment. But his blood was running hot, and he knew it would only be a moment before someone came in and saw the body. He turned the body over, and tried his best to ignore the shock and horror on the man's face, as he searched, and quickly found a small pocket hear his breast. And in that pocket, Colan found a small ring of keys.

'As I thought,' the man had seemed very important, so more than likely he would have some keys, and those keys were more than likely to be the ones that unlocked chains. And since he knew that Da and Emiya would be chained, he was going to need these keys to unlock them. Getting these keys were the next step to getting his friends free, and off the island.

He made one final look at the man, the first man he'd killed, and grabbed the knife, and pulled it loose. He then sprinted towards the door to the corridor, and slammed it open. Only as he opened it, did he remember he should look for guards. He cursed as he was several feet out into the open, but as he looked around, he didn't see anyone. He then slammed the door shut, and sprinted to the other nearest door, stopped, opened to make sure he didn't see anyone. There was no one there. In fact, there was just a large staircase, descending downward.

'This must be the way to the cells,' he thought, 'Maybe Emiya and Da are down there?' He noticed how dark it was, before nodding, and then shutting it behind him, and descending the torchlit stairs, 'Best chance I have…'

It was only one flight of stairs, around thirty steps, but it felt like he was descending farther. The light, which had been around on the ground level even if it was coming through small windows and grates, was almost completely gone. There were still grates like above, but they were allowing only the left over light from the rooms above. There were no torches, likely to keep the rooms from filling with smoke, and it strained Colan's eyes to try and see. As he pushed himself up against the wall, just in case he ran into any more guards, knife in one hand and keys in the other. The cells were on what was likely the outer section of the GreatPit, and on the other side was a brick wall that seemed to curve, mimicking the arena above.

As he pushed through the dungeon, he came upon the first cell, and slowed down, trying to make sure he wasn't seen. Yet, as he came up he couldn't see anyone behind the bars. Finally seeing that the cell was empty, he pushed past, before stopping again to see in the next cell.

Which was also empty.

Colan, slowly pushed further forward, and saw that the next cell was empty. And then the next and the next. By the end of the row, he was sprinting past each cell, terror building up. All the cells were empty, so that meant that the Pit Fighters were all probably preparing to go up into the arena.

GRUNK-chink-chink-chink-chink-

The massive sound nearly knocked Colan over, and as he held himself up, he could hear the rumbling from what sounded like the center of the dungeons. He began to run again, and he pushed himself forward, desperately hoping he could make it find Da and Emiya before they were lifted into the fights.

As he made it past the last of the cells, the wall on his right disappeared, and suddenly, there was a clear space in the middle. Colan could see many piles of sand lying on the ground, and also there was more light coming through massive holes. He then saw beneath those open holes were square pieces of wood, with chains attached to them on all four corners. Men, with only the knives and small shields from earlier, were standing on them. The large squares were hanging slightly above the ground, and swayed slightly as the men tried to remain as still as possible.

Chink-chink-chink.

The squares began to rise, and the men on the squares had to hold themselves from falling from the lifts. They seemed to be agitated, and from what he could see, it was taking everything for them to keep from stabbing one another.

'Those must be the first set,' He remembered from earlier, 'Which means that Da and Emiya must be up there!'

He looked at the lifts, which were still slowly moving up into the air. He looked at it, and the small piles of sand on the ground nearby. Realizing this may be his only chance, he broke into a sprint, his eyes on the rising platform. If he could get up there, he could get to them and get them the key. Yet, just as he was about half way there, he felt his feet no longer hit the ground. He was hanging by his cloak, and almost let out a curse.

'Of all the times to catch me,' he felt his stomach drop. Everything he'd done so far, and to be caught right at the end. The lifts were no higher up than his own height, and he could begin to hear the roar of the crowd as the pit fighters were lifted to the crowd, and he reached his hand out. His father's face flashed across his mind

He was pulled up further, and twisted around so his eyes met a pair of dark brown eyes surrounded by tanned skin and dark brown hair. And yet…the eyes…didn't seem cruel as they stared at each other. He was then sung backward, as the eyes looked him over, confusion over his captor's features.

"Connla?"

'Wh-' he looked over the man, and Colan remembered the name. He'd heard it before…recently, but he couldn't place where he'd heard it, but, 'That sounds like me.'

"No, I'm Colan," he said aloud, and the man holding him continued to look him over. For a moment, they just stood there, all the while the clinking of the chains as the carried the lifts up into the arena.

"By chance," the man had a hint of a smile on his face. Colan could see a long bow resting along his chest, and a quiver of arrows on his shoulder. He pointed at Colan's face, and asked, "Would you happen to know Cu Chulainn?"

"You know Da!" And then, for the first time since he'd entered the pyramid, he remembered that they originally hadn't been following the dark skinned woman on the trip to New Ghis, but one they expected to be a pit fighter. Colan looked over the man, and then asked, "Are you a "Heroic Spirit" too?"

"Hmm," the man nodded, and then set Colan down, "Yes I am."

Colan's feet immediately gave way, and his the worry in his chest blew out in a massive breath. He could feel tears forming at the bottom of his eyes, as he looked at the dark skinned man. He'd been on his own so long, to know he'd found another one of his father's comrades right when he needed to…it made him let loose the first joy he'd felt in days. The pit fighter spirit placed his hand on Colan's shoulder, and kneeled downward.

"Do not fear," the man smiled, "Arash is a defender of the weak and the innocent, I will do whatever I can to help the…son?" Colan, now openly crying, nodded furiously at the question, and Arash nodded back, "of one my comrades. Now, please tell me why you are currently in a dungeon beneath an arena full of gladiators."

"I took the keys from the head guard," Colan spoke as quickly as he could, "They are going to have my Da and Emiya figh-"

"Emiya's here too?" Arash's eyes widened, before shaking his head, and saying, "I didn't see either of them, and judging by your hair," he looked up at Colan's blue locks, "I'm sure I would have recognized them. Unless they were…they're the first set of prisoners that the new pit fighters were ordered to kill, aren't they."

Colan nodded, and the smile disappeared from Arash's face. He shook his head, and then his eyes narrowed as the lifts latched into the ceiling above them. He looked back down at Colan, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, give me one second-" Arash's eyes seemed to survey the chains around the edges of the lift, and then followed them down to large cranks, which had several slaves who were too exhausted from their work to notice. Realizing that he'd been out in the open, Colan swiveled his head around multiple times, worried about any of the other pit fighters having noticed him and Arash. Yet when he saw them, they were mostly standing around, all looking at the lifts like Arash was.

"The Firebelly actually works by causing you to become more agitated when in the light of the sun," Arash was still looking over the chains, "It actually clouds your mind when you are in the dark, so they will pay us no mind here," Colan sighed, and nodded at the older man, who then sighed, "We will have to wait for the next time they bring the lifts down to go up. The metal is chains are likely too strong, and opening the floor permanently might cause a commotion for these men."

"But what about Da and Emiya?"

"Don't worry," Arash chuckled, standing up straight, and pulling Colan by the shoulder until they were near the nearest lift, "Even if they are tied down, I have faith in my comrades to handle this first wave on their own," he frowned, and looked up as he heard what sounded like one massive voice coming from the arena above them, "Honestly, I think they're expecting your Father and Emiya to survive this first wave, with all that is going into it."

"Really?" Colan looked up at Arash, who was slowly removing the bow from his shoulder, and placing it in his hand, and similarly twisting the quiver of arrows onto his back.

"They only gave them short knives and small shields," Arash explained, seemingly inspecting his bow, when suddenly a massive cheer went up from the crowd temporarily covering the sound of the lone announcer, "Whoever is having them fight in this doesn't want to waste them, and likely wants to wet the appetite of the crowd to build suspense for the rest of the games."

As Colan heard the voice take over once again, feeling that parts of it seemed a bit familiar to the voice he had heard in the pyramid. He gulped, before looking back at Arash, and, remembering that Arash himself was a pit fighter, "Did you have to deal with that?"

"Unfortunately," Arash nodded, "It's a common technique. Arm those deemed unlikely to provide much value with meager weapons and armor, then send them against something to prove that target's ferocity. Then send more valuable fighters against it, sometimes so the object will immediately fall, and sometimes to further engage the crowd before the most valuable and well known pit fighters are able to finish it off at the end of the day. Whether that target be a man or a beast," Arash shook his head, "The goal is always to have it dead by the end of the games."

"Did yo-"

"Yes," Arash sighed, "I was a boy, and given to choices. To the pits or to the unsullied," his frown deepened, "I chose the pits. I was one of two dozen small slave boys sent to kill a crocodile," Colan heard the tightening of Arash's hand around the bow it was holding, "I was the only one who survived the thing," and Colan felt Arash's free hand grip his shoulder.

"So…"

"Your father and Emiya should survive this one," he nodded, "and besides, if whoever has sent them to die from this fight intends for this to be a fight they can survive, then that means that this will be no problem at all," his from turned to a smile, "because he is still likely underestimating them."

Then, the words of the announcer came to an end. Trumpets began to play throughout the arena, and the cheering started, only to be drowned out by the shouts of charging men. FOr a second, Colan's hair stood on end.

THUD

TOnly for a strange dull sound to coincide with a distinct collison with the ceiling above. Only a moment later, the shouts began to turn into screams, and they were soon joined by a cacophony of the cheering of the crowd.

THUD

THUD

THUD
THUD
THUD
THUDTHUDTHUDTTHDDDDDDD

"Never stood a chance," Arash shook his head, and COlan gulped. He supposed, in his panic after the whole magic paralysis that his father and Lady Xuan had undergone, he had forgotten just what terrors Da and the Heroic Spirits could be to ordinary men. This discomfort grew when he saw, from one of the openings around the nearest lift, a distinct sticky liquid begin to drip down from the small gap. He looked down at the key, and felt a bit of relief realizing that he'd get the chance to free his father.

'Even if they don't need it right now.'

When the final scream ended, the crowd roar grew to even a higher level, and Colan heard the first sound of a gear being let loose. The lifts began to open up, and on the lift nearest to them, Colan saw the body of one of the men slump over, and then fall alongside the lift, bouncing off the wood, and then hitting the stone floor beneath, only a few feet from Colan. He stared at the body, and the large stab along the head, that Da had managed to call up the devil spear and was using it to stab his opponents.

'At least he hasn't used it's demon power,' he remembered Asryn's ruined body flying through the air, 'These don't seem to deserve that.'

"I'm sorry," Arash was also looking down at the body of the dead fighter, "You were sent by unworthy masters to your death. May the gods of this world take you into their arms," he then gripped Colan by the waist, and then hopped onto the lift. He then set Colan down, and then pulled three arrows from his quiver, and notched the three of them along the weapon, and then began to swivel around, "This lift is for I alone. Find another," he then added, a sad look in his eyes, "Though…I'd say that you all should stay here. The whole above us will only lead you to hell."

The other fighters nearest them stopped, and stared at Arash. For a moment, they glared at him…though soon they retreated into the arrows. Wil other fighters were clambering up onto the other lifts, these fighters all listened to Arash, and…for the first time, Colan noticed that they lacked the wild looks in their eyes, just like Arash.

"Shouldn't the firebelly get them ready for a fight?" he asked, just as he heard the chains begin to lift them into the air.

"They are like me, from Astapor," Colan looked up at Arash, who had a sad smile on his face, "I have known many of them for years. I warned them not to have the firebelly, as it leads to degeneration of the neural system," he stopped, and looked down at Colan, "Death of the mind."

"Oh," he'd thought he'd heard enough of these strange words from Emiya, though he supposed if they all had come from the same place, they would be familiar with similar words.

"They are my friends," he shook his head, "And I shall be sad to leave them. But if your father and Emiya are here-"
"So is Lady Xuan," the beautiful monk's face appeared in Colan's head. That he was finally about to save his father and Emiya from immediate danger allowed him to return his attention to the woman who had been so interested in conversing with him. He blushed, "I don't know where she is though."

"Xuanzang," Arash's smile returned, and Colan couldn't help but smile himself with the memories of the wonderful woman in his mind, "Yes, with all of us, it is clear that we are meant to return to Chaldea. I have been looking forward to it, it has been over a decade since I regained my own self understanding, and returning to that mission will be a relief of the trials I have faced here," he then gripped tighter once again on his bow, "Though…perhaps a victory here would allow me to give my friends a parting gift."
That was the last bit of conversation they had before they were in the open air. Colan had to cover his eyes when they first burst out into the arena, the bright light of the sun temporarily blinding him. He then lowered his hands, and saw that the massive Greatpit was likely filled to capacity.

There were tens of thousands of people in the arena. Up top appeared to be the ordinary citizens and slaves, having been forced to walk the farthest to get the cheapest seats on long stone benches. Below them were dozens of massive wooden stands built into the sides of the GreatPit, with verandas and balconies sticking out, allowing what appeared very rich men to watch while standing or sitting on expensive cushions. They, unlike the poorer above them, seemed to be eating something, and Colan couldn't help but remember the strange recipe the head of the arena had been ordering the cooks to prepare before Colan had managed to catch and kill him.

But the largest of the boxes was made of marble, not stone. It was filled with a set of trumpeteers, and had two massive harpy statues on each side, both screeching in rage as they stared down on the arena. And sitting in the middle of it was a massive marble throne, with the wings of a Harpy behind it, and a long purple cloth with the symbol of the harpy on the front.

Sitting on that throne was the same man that Colan had remembered from inside the pyramid not two days earlier. He was sitting there, his eyes looking down, and with a cloaked figure always standing directly next to him. He had quite a large pile of food on his other side, and Colan noticed what appeared to be a rather large claw of some kind of bird sitting in a plate, having been picked clean.

Looking down in the arena itself, which was around ten feet below a row of legionnaires monitoring the walls, was the arena itself. As Colan had expected, it was filled with the bodies of the initial wave of fighters. Next to the bodies were around a dozen far more heavily armored figures, with larger shields, and longer, more substantial weapons. They were pointing their weapons toward the middle of the arena.

Where Da and Emiya were standing. The two were tied together by a short chain, not even one of their arms in length. Even worse, it was through a metal ring that was anchored to the exact middle of the arena. Colan could see that they were both still standing straight up, but also that there was blood on both of them. He was fairly sure it was the blood of the fighters who had attacked them, but he wasn't sure. Da and Emiya were looking up at the massive box, both still standing defiantly as they looked up at the Tyrant barely acknowledging their presence. Finally, the trumpets blared again, and the crowd grew silent.

"Now, you see the monsters who defy us," the Tyrant announced, not even bothering to stand up, though somehow his voice carried through the whole of the arena, "They have slain the weak and unprepared. Had they been allowed to move through our cities unchecked, it would be all of us who suffered beneath their fangs," he then raised his hands, "But as a united Ghis, we have captured these beasts wearing the skins of men. Where before, they only faced the untested, now they face our arms and training," he then shouted, "Begin!"

THUN-THU-THUNK

Three pit fighters, the closest to Emiya and Da, suddenly fell. Colan stopped, recognizing that three arrows were sticking out of the corpses, and turned to see that Arash had loosed them. The crowd, which had just seemed about to resume their cheering was stunned into silence. Da and Emiya seemed shocked by the sudden death of theree of the men they were about to fight, and both turned. Both of their eyes bulged.

"Arash!" Emiya shouted.

"Colan!" Da almost jumped, before being held down by the chain. Colan, having been almost as stunned as everyone else, charged forward to his father. It took him only a few seconds before he felt his father's arms wrap him up and pull him upward. Colan, before he realized it, was crying again, the touch of his father's arms a welcome feeling.

"Hey!"

Colan stopped, and looked over to Emiya, who had been knocked to the ground from the sudden movement from the chain. He grimaced for a second, before wiggling slightly, so his father would allow him to the ground. He smiled to his father, and held up the ring of keys, which caused his father's eyes to jump, and a wolfish smile to cover his lips.

"What do you know," Da laughed, taking the keys, and beginning to play with them against the shackle on his wrist, "Excellent work Colan," Colan felt some heat rise on his cheeks, "This will make the next bit quite a bit easier."

"What is the meaning of this?" Colan looked up, and saw that Grazdan was sitting straight, no longer lounging from his throne. He hadn't made the effort to confront this disruption, but he was clearly now being forced to at least acknowledge something had gone wrong, "Warrior of Astapor, what is the meaning of this," Colan realized that his concern was far more for Arash, who was busy notching another arrow while Da was on the third key on the ring to try and unlock himself from the chain, "You dare turn your back on the might of Ghis?"

Arash said nothing, and instead looked around the arena for a moment, up into the boxes of the Masters who were excitedly chirping about what was occurring. More than likely, some thought it was part of the show. There was a rage cut into Arash's face as he looked at the hundreds of rich men and women looking down on him. He then closed his eyes, and snorted, before turning on his heel, and loosing the arrow. It shot quickly through the air, and into the Tyrant's box. It pierced into the marble right next to Grazdan's head, who stayed still, before moving his head to look at the shaft only a few ticks away from his eye.

"The might of Ghis?" Arash shook his head, Colan turning his attention back to the former pit fighter, "I've seen its might. It's nothing more than a lie, I've know that since I was born, and I've known why for eleven years-'

"Explains why you look so young," Emiya offered, having returned to his feet, the black blade appearing in his hand.

"This whole civilization is built on a lie," Arash continued, ignoring Emiya's remark, "A lie of greatness that has long been snuffed out. I'd offer to simply allow us to leave, but I know your false pride would never accept it," he then pointed his finger up at Tyrant, and declared, so the whole of the GreatPit could hear, "The next arrow I loose at you will end you, Grazdan the Great!"

"Kill them!" Grazdan screamed from his throne, as for the first time, Colan could see the rage come over the Tyrant's features, his face now as red as his hair and beard, "Anyone who threatens my person must be punished for that crime," he was now standing, and pointing down at the four of them, "Everyone who brings me one of their heads will receive their freedom and a villa on the aquarian road!"

"YEEAAAAAAAA!" the pit fighters shouted, as they charged. One, with a massive net and a long trident, neared Da, who was fiddling with another one of the keys attached to the clasp on his hand. Within only a few feet of the chained hero, he threw his net to entangle him, only to miss as the clamp suddenly came loose, and Da rolled from the trap. He then slammed his palms together, and Gae Bolg was again in them. The pit fighter charged forward, thrusting his trident, only for Da to dodge to the left, and shoot his spear directly into the belly of the warrior, the chainmail not stopping the strike. The spear went all the way through the man's guts, and Da grabbing it and pulling it into his hands as the corpse soon fell to the sandy floor.

"Really," Da began to twirl the red spear in his hand, "That's the more experienced warrior we're fighting. I thought they were supposed to be a challenge?"

"Well Cu," Colan heard Arash laugh as he pulled out another arrow from his quiver, and then shot it right past Colan's father, so it hit a man in the eye who had been trying to flank Da with a warhammer, "You must remember Cu, most Pit Fighters are showmen first. Our job is not only to fight well, but to do so in a way that provides maximal entertainment with minimal loss of valuable assets."

"Wha-"

"He means that most of these guys are supposed to be showing but not really kill each other," Da answered Colan's question, "What is it with you and Emiya using words to confuse my son. Just say what you mean."

"We are saying what we mean," Colan looked back at Emiya who was currently using the same key to begin to unlock his clamp, "You're the one that hasn't expanded his vocabulary beyond simple barks, Dog Breath."

"Now Emiya," Arash laughed firing another arrow and cutting through a thick brass helmet, "We are mayhaps using words a bit too foreign for a boy born in this world, especially with knowledge from Chaldea," another arrow, another dead man, "By the way, I'm winning."

"What?" Da and Emiya said at the same time.

"I'm winning," Arash said aloud, again notching another arrow, "I heard about your competition during the Roman Singularity, how you fought over who managed to kill the most enemies," the arrow released, and one of the fighters with two small axes charing at Emiya flipped backward from the impact, "Well, we're staring over now, and I'm winning so far, five, one, nothing," he pointed to himself, then Da, and then Emiya. Colan looked over at Da and Emiya, who were standing still, looked at him in shock.

"Bullshit!" they said simultaneously, and continued the same, "We killed a lot of guys before you even got here."

"That's why we're starting now," Arash laughed, this time cutting through a morning star in swing so the metal ball slammed into the man's temple, sending him to the ground, "Best to start the competition with the same chances. I'm now up to six by the way."

"You know," Da gave an aside glance to Emiya, "He has a point," he then raised Gae Bolg like a javelin, and tossed it at a man slowly marching forward toward him with a massive shield and a small sword, piercing through that mix of wood and iron and impaling the fighter, "I'm at two, Mr. Zero."

"...I'm surrounded by assholes," Emiya then called upon his second blade, before looking back at Colan, "Good work on getting the keys Colan," he smiled and nodded at the boy, "Also in finding Arash. Should make the next fights easier."

"Ah," Colan nodded as he looked over at the bronze man, who had never actually praised him before, "I just tried to do the best I was able."

"And you were," he then stopped, "Still have that bag of important equipment."

"You mean the rings," Colan held up the bag, as the sounds of metal cutting into flesh covered the arena, "Yes, it's right here."
"Good," Emiya nodded, "Keep it to yourself. Get in the middle of the three of us, and let us know if they try and flank us. You should be safe from anyone with us between you and them," Colan nodded, and while he was already between the three spirits, he made sure to try and keep his eyes on all the other fighters currently surrounding them.

The initial charge had been broken by the sudden arrival of Arash, but they couldn't keep too much distance because of the threat of the former pit fighter's arrows. As two more charged, long blades in their hands, Emiya stepped towards them, dodged their strikes, and spun between them. A second after having passed through, the two fell, long bloody gashes appearing on their stomachs. Another man with a long pole arm was trying to use it's greater reach to fight Da, but Colan's father simply stepped on the blade at the end of the weapon, and then smashed it before running the pit fighter through.

This would continue only for another few minutes, before the entire second wave of fighters they had been dealt with, they're bodies lying with the bodies of the undertrained sacrifices that had been killed earlier. Colan looked back up into the boxes. The previous relaxed attitude of the spectators, in particular the masters, seemed to have dispersed, and was replaced by whispers and gossip as they conversed among themselves. Colan took one second to glance up at Grazdan, and Colan nearly let out an audible gasp.

Grazdan was no longer sitting, and was leaning over the rail, glaring down at the four of them. He face was still just as red as earlier, but now he was gripping so fiercely into the marble box, that Colan could see the stone crumble beneath his talon like fingers. There seemed to be a swirling storm of feathers behind him, as he glared down, with a raging beast like hunger.

"You dare mock my games," he said at a normal volume, but Colan could hear it as clear as day. So could his father and the other Heroic Spirits, who turned and aimed their weapons at the Tyrant, "You dare mock my empire? YOU DARE MOCK ME?"

Suddenly, the cloaked figure ran to Grazdan's side, and almost as suddenly, he was sent away with a strike. It sent the figure flying, and Colan heard a crash of the figure hitting the furniture. For a moment, Grazdan continued to try and murder them with only his gaze, before he then announced, "All legionnaires, prepare to march into the arena. The men who bring me their heads will be given a hundred slaves and two hundred acres of land each on the continent."

The guards on the walls stayed in place, all of them holding their weapons at the ready, but what worried Colan were the sounds coming from the tunnels around the arena. In less than three minutes, he heard what sounded like whole units being formed up to match together against them, and this was soon confirmed as a block of over a hundred men soon marched out of the tunnel that Colan guessed he had originally been in when sneaking in. The guards all had the same purple shield and all pointed them towards Colan and the others.

"Well," Da seemed to chuckle, "Now this is really familiar."

"Deja vu doesn't begin to describe it," Emiya shook his head, "It's like Rome all over again."

"Yeah," Da then looked over his shoulder, "Cept the emperor trying to kill us back then was much better looking."

"Oh get off of it," Emiya groaned, getting in a fighting stance.

BOOOOOOOMMMMMMM

Colan was finally knocked from his feet. He looked up, and towards the sound. At he thought it had been the Tyrant, but he saw that Grazdan himself was looking backward. Everyone was looking in the same direction…towards the pyramid.

'Lady Xuan,' Colan forced himself to his feet. He hadn't seen her, so she was still likely back there, 'Please be okay.'